I spent Shabbat at Sde Eliyahu, a dati (religious) kibbutz near Beit She’an, with friends. Before going up there, I’d had this lingering thought that perhaps, quite possibly, אולי ,אפשר, I’d made the wrong decision in choosing not to go the kibbutz ulpan route with these friends. But then I witnessed it for myself. Instead of getting into the problematics, I suggest that you read what The Last Trumpet had to say.
…It was not a great Shabbat. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed seeing my friends. And I enjoyed our failed Shabbat afternoon journey to the water spring (which involved walking through an orchard of spider webs, circling around the spring, watching a giant crab at the edge of the water who clearly wanted to EAT US NOW, my being bitten by a fish, not actually swimming or even fully getting in the water, being circled by bees, backing away from the praying mantis, having spiders come out of the rimon (pomegranate) that I picked from the tree to snack on, and destroying my faux-crocs (which now have lovely holes in the soles)). On the plus side, we did eat a pomegranate and dates fresh from the trees, I got to play with a super cute 18 month old girl who is beyond confused by which language she speaks (Heblish? Engrew?), and I got to speak French with a Belgian kibbutznik who started to talk about how Belgium might be on its final breath as a unified country, and who was incredibly surprised and pleased that I knew what she was talking about and could add to the conversation. On the down side, the davening was beyond bad; even the addition of the Jerusalem Cantors Choir didn’t add any ruach.
At least I no longer doubt my choice: the kibbutz ulpan would NOT have been a good idea for me.
Tradescantia Zebrina .:. The Wandering Jew 